Ramadan is all about time. Time restricts when you stop eating and when you start. It informs what days the fast can take place and on what days it cannot. Generally, Islamic activities are guided by time. The five compulsory daily prayers take place at particular hours of the day. Once you pray out of the set times deliberately, your prayer’s worth is lessened. Hajj has its specified time to be undertaken. Even alms must be given in a particular time period just as taxes have their own calendar.
A week ago, Ramadan started in earnest with believers crowding mosques early in the morning and the Quran being read excessively day and night. The spirit of the month hovered all around Muslim communities. Even on Muslim Facebook corners. Every post had a glint of piety in it. Allah’s name punctuated all the sentences on Facebook. The word Ramadan was ubiquitous on every lip with Kareem ending it.
It has been 8 days of spiritual bliss so far. What started as a seemingly enervating exercise has quickly become a run of the mill part of the Muslim’s life. Thinking about food during the day is no longer expected. The stomach has grown accustomed to being without food for the best part of the day and not making the funny noises it used to. But in as much as the body is acclimatizing, the zeal of the soul seems to be waning.
The lines in the mosques are becoming shorter by the day. Some who used to stand shoulder to shoulder now bow alone in the confines of their bedrooms. Waking up for Sahoor is no longer as easier as it used to be so with less eating time, journeying to the mosque becomes a burden. Reading the Quran continues to be one of the most desirable things but the pages seem to be heavy and flipping them is no longer done flippantly.
The Pre Ramadan Slump seems to be slowly setting in. The weakening of the soul is a gradual process and without care, suddenly creeps unto you. It is slowly extending its tentacles to every entity remotely connecting itself to Ramadan. Even bloggers ambitiously trying to write 30 Ramadan themed stories are feeling the blues. It seems like I am slowly running out of matter and the substance might be on a downward spiral.
But there exists no better way to fight the urge to be mediocre than excelling in fighting mediocrity. The devil is not the cause of the slump, our minds are. The only way out is to own rebound back to excellence. The 30 stories shall be written, no matter how stale they might read. What matters the most is, the body was pushed to its limit. The month shall not leave without praying till we cannot stand no more, reading the Quran until our mouth need a break and remember our Lord with words of praise until He gloats to His angels about His loyal servants about us.